Sigh. Time management may just be the nemesis of my as-yet-to-bloom writing career. Finally, at 11:15 p.m. on a Sunday evening, I find some time where my head feels clear enough to formulate run-away thoughts into phrases, sentences and hopefully paragraphs. Although cliche avoidance is rule #1 for writing, I must confess I spent the majority of last week running around like a chicken sans head, and so did not write.
After a grueling week (well, officially two weeks of work since I was on duty last weekend), Saturday and Sunday proved to be a much needed respite. The days leading up to this weekend were so busy I forgot to notice that my most favorite time of the year is upon us. Ever since I was a little girl, I have adored fall. During grade school, it meant sharp pencils, new saddle shoes and fresh ballet slippers. Now it means working out lesson-plan organization, mastering evil copying machines and keeping track of 50 students’ papers in 5 different classes. Oh and thanks to a mother that just gets me, cute new paper clips and these thing-y’s:
Tease me all you want, but whether you are 7 or 27, there is a certain je ne sais quoi about new school supplies. Notebooks full of blank pages begging to be filled. Sharp, fresh pencils waiting to scratch across paper. Or binder clips prepared to organize 50 students in 5 different sections’ papers. Can you tell that as I (albeit slowly) find my new organization, I am once again taking refuge in the details? It provides a soothing effect as I work out the bigger (and obviously more important) challenges I face.
Today was the perfect fall day marked by periods of intense sun, intense wind and intense clouds. For those of us who have trouble deciding what we want, it was just right. Feeling the sunshine, breeze and clouds on my skin calmed me down as my mom and I wandered in pursuit of more quirky and interesting towns in the environs. Quirky towns found today: none. Quirky ice cream parlors found: one. I swear by Amorino biscotti flavored ice cream (eating at least one serving a requirement I give to any friends traveling to Paris), but I think today I may just have met its match: ginger-flavored ice cream from Kilby Cream. The surprising and innovative ice cream flavor teamed up with the impetuous fall weather to (almost) succeed into fooling me I was on the Pont des arts in Paris instead of on a farm in C.T.
I am tired, overwhelmed and feeling faintly like I am drowning in work. But a funky ice cream parlor on a farm placed an unexpected jewel in my partly cloudy day.